


we should just kiss (like real people do)

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [23]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (for Iris at least), F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Introspection, Pining, Realization of Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5595949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you tell someone you’re done waiting? How do you make up for months and maybe years worth of lost time, and everything your life has thrown at you since? How do you tell someone you love them when it’s actually so, so much more than just that? Maybe you don’t tell them after all, she thinks. Maybe you just have to <em>show</em> them.</p><p>[The love kiss is any kiss that you give while thinking tender, loving thoughts about your partner. You might not realize it, but your kissing style can be influenced by whatever’s on your mind. Smooching with love on your mind will make your kisses extra soft and sweet. Whether it’s on your partner’s mouth, neck, ear or forehead, the love kiss is the most romantic kiss you can give.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	we should just kiss (like real people do)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "The Love Kiss"

Iris has always stood by the fact that actions speak louder than words. This is especially true for her, because even though she’s a reporter and a writer and words are what she does, what she creates and crafts and commands in whatever way she sees fit, she always finds herself at a loss for them at the most inopportune times. The times, of course, when she needs them most.

Like now, like last week, like last month, like the million times she’s tried to tell him since the moment she came to the realization that this was what she wanted. Not that there was really a defining moment, now that she thinks about it. It was more of a long series of moments, of realizing that it would change things but that that was okay, of letting fate win, just this once, because there was no more denying that it was right. The realization was more of an acceptance of something she already knew, had probably known for a long time.

How do you tell someone you’re done waiting? How do you make up for months and maybe years worth of lost time, and everything your life has thrown at you since? How do you tell someone you love them when it’s actually so, so much more than just that? Maybe you don’t tell them after all, she thinks. Maybe you just have to _show_ them.

There’s still that little bit of uncertainty nagging at the back of her mind–not uncertainty about this decision, not at all, but about how he’ll react. Is it too soon? Maybe. He’s just broken up with Patty, but then again he’s also freely admitted that a big part of the reason for that was her. Would always be her. 

And besides, ‘too soon’ is kind of a moot point when this has already been such a long time coming, isn’t it? She’s had enough of dancing around the matter, of trying to get his attention with light touches and lingering gazes, and she’s done with trying to tell him and then backing out at the last second. So she does what she does best. Which is that she just _does_.

She gets off early from work, and she knows from talking to him earlier that he’ll still be cooped up in his lab, where he’ll probably be all night with the giant report Captain Singh has him working on. She says goodbye to Linda and Linda gives her a thumbs up and an encouraging little smile, a heartfelt  _“You got this”_ and  _“You have nothing to worry about; you’ve always had this one,”_ and she smiles back to show her gratitude, but she’s worried that it means the nervousness must show on her face. 

Still, she leaves with her heart in her throat, butterflies in her stomach, her skin buzzing with nerves and excitement and anticipation and every other romantic cliche to ever exist, and wonders if this is anything close to what Barry must have been feeling on a chilly December night just a little over a year ago. She thinks she finally might understand why he waited so long to tell her–at least she has the luxury of knowing her feelings are reciprocated. _So then why is she still so nervous?_

He’s leaning over his microscope when she comes in–the one she bought him, she notes, a warm feeling curling in her chest–completely engrossed in his work, and she gives herself a few moments to just stand in the doorway and watch him at it, tongue poking out between his lips, eyebrows drawn together in concentration, frankly looking adorable.

She smiles fondly to herself and clears her throat, stifling a laugh behind her fingers at the way he jumps, nearly falling out of his chair as he’s brought back down to Earth. ”Iris! Hi!” he says brightly, scrambling to his feet when he sees her approaching, quickly recovering from his embarrassment with a smile that spreads across his face. It’s genuine and warm and so happy just by virtue of her being there and being _her_ , and she wonders how she ever could have been nervous or unsure about this. “I thought you had work today?”

“Hi Barry,” Iris smiles, stopping in front of him, and then she gives him a hug just because she can, wraps her arms tight around his middle and squeezes him close, burying her face in his flannel. If he’s surprised by this sudden display of affection he doesn’t show it, just hugs her back with equal amounts of enthusiasm, just as tightly, as though this is the most natural and normal thing in the world. “I did have work, but I got off sort of early. Although it is already past seven, you know,” she says, stepping back, and immediately misses the contact as her arms fall back down to her sides, her fingers still itching to touch.

“What?” he blinks, and looks towards the window, as though just realizing that it’s dark out. “Oh, wow. I didn’t even realize it was night time. I’ve been working on this report all day and then Singh gave me _more_ evidence to process on top of all that. I think it’s turned my brain to mush.”

“Well, why don’t you take a break?” she says, and when he opens his mouth to protest, she puts a gentle hand on his arm and gives him a nervous smile, her skin buzzing, the butterflies in her stomach suddenly back ten-fold. “So we can talk? Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, anyway. It’s kind of important. Can’t wait.”

“More important than the report that Singh promised he’d have my head for if I didn’t finish by tomorrow?” Barry jokes, but she can tell his heart’s not in it. If she has something to say, she knows he’ll listen, no matter how much work he’s got hanging over his head.

“I think so, yeah. I’m pretty sure you’d agree.”

“Okay, well, you got me. What is it?” He moves to sit back down, but Iris tightens her grip on his arm and shakes her head. He gives her a quizzical look but shrugs, straightening back up to face her.

 _I love you_ her mind is screaming it so loud it’s making her head spin, and yet when she tries to say the words out loud they just won’t come. She’s thinking it and she’s feeling it but it’s almost like it’s so much, it’s _too_ much to get out in just three little words. Not after all this time. 

“I…” she swallows, her mind predictably going blank as she searches his face, counts the moles and freckles from his neck up to his face, watches the way his eyelashes flutter when he blinks and the way his lips move when he speaks again, curling down around the edges in confusion.

“Iris? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” he asks, running a hand over his mouth, suddenly self-conscious. 

She shakes her head, stepping into his personal space, backing him up against his desk so that he has nowhere to go. “Iris…?” he asks again, his voice soft and breathless and just a little bit hopeful. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she tries, but the rest gets lost as she watches the nervous bob of his adam’s apple in that long neck of his, the slight part of his lips, the way his eyes light up and his breath hitches when she places a hand on the side of his face, cups his cheek and rubs a thumb across his skin. 

“Barry,” she says, takes a deep breath, and in the end that’s all she says. Instead, she stands on her tip-toes and let’s her weight fall against his, keeps one hand on his face and splays the other out against his chest, right over his heart, feeling the reassuring beat of it underneath her fingertips–more of a buzz than a thump, thump, thump, and she wonders if this is it’s normal speed or if it’s maybe going just a little bit faster because of her.

She’ll still maintain that _she_ kisses _him_ first, even though by the time she leans up to him he’s already meeting her halfway, for once fast to catch on without the help of his speed. Either way it doesn’t really matter, because she’s kissing him and she’s kissing him and she’s kissing him and she feels warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and this is what it feels like, she thinks, to kiss the love of your life. Like their lips were made for kissing yours, and yours were made for kissing theirs, because they fit perfectly together, and everything feels so beautiful and so natural and so right, and she honestly can’t believe it’s taken her so long to do this. That _this_ is what she’s been missing out on, all these years. 

She does her best to pour a lot of unsaid things into the kiss, all of the things she can’t seem to find the words for, _I want this_ and _I need this_ and  _I love you, I love you, I love you_ and so, so much more. Judging by the arm that tightens around her, pulls her so close she’s not even sure where she ends and he begins, and the hand that comes up to cradle her face, she’s fairly certain he gets the picture. His lips move seamlessly against hers, soft and pliant and eager as if to say _finally_ , so she chases his mouth and lets her lips part against his, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip, to tell him _I know_.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://lesbianlaurellance.tumblr.com/)


End file.
